Holding On To Forever
by Graveygraves
Summary: Derek has to face the worse. Having lost one parent the prospect of losing another is too much to bare. AU, un'beted, views and reviews appreciated.
1. Finding out

**Holding on to Forever**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas**

For various reasons I haven't written for over a year. This story is angst based and at the moment I don't how often I will update as for various reasons this is hard to write but something I need to do too. Sorry. I haven't set this in a specific series as it is AU, but it roughly Season 6.

. . .

Derek sat in the dark, still trying to process the call he had received over two hours ago from his sister, Sarah. He literally hadn't moved since he put his phone down and slumped back on the couch. His half drunk mug of coffee now cold on the table in front of him, as he sat staring at the blank TV screen, his mind whirling in his heavy unmoving body.

Every ounce of his usual energy had been sucked from him, worse then the hardest blow he had ever received in the field. The news hadn't exactly come out of the blue, he knew his Mom was having some tests done, but he still hadn't expected the worse. She looked so well when he had visited over the summer, she had reassured him it was just a precaution and nothing for him to worry about. He hadn't prepared himself for Sarah saying it was cancer.

He knew he needed to move; he needed to source a flight to get home, yet he still couldn't physically get up and get going. His limbs were heavy, he felt weighed down, pinned to the couch. Slowly he reached forward for his phone, knowing the one person who could help him right now. It seemed to take forever for her answer as the rings continued in his ear. Eventually he got a groggy answer, which made him check the time, how had it got to be past midnight?

"Chocolate Thunder, what's up?" Penelope muttered, sleep thickening her voice.

"I need a favour," the desperation echoed through his own voice as he spoke.

"Anything, name it?" he could hear the rising concern in her voice, instantly changing the tone. He hated putting her through this, especially as at this point he wasn't ready to tell her all.

"I need to be on the next flight home," his voice broke as he said the final word, a tear streaking down his face as he spoke. He tried to hold himself together as he heard her get up, obviously from bed, and pad across her apartment. All the way she was murmuring something, but he couldn't respond straight away . . . "Please Baby Girl" he begged, "Just sort it for me."

"Of course, of course, but you are getting me all worried and I don't work as well when my mind is fogged by the concern that is now filling me. Please Derek let me help you?" she pleaded.

Derek let out a long sigh; "You are helping me, by getting me home as soon as possible. I will talk to you when I get back. I'm sorry . . . I just can't . . . not now," he croaked, emotion choking him as he run his free hand over his head and down to rub his watery eyes.

"Okay, okay, My Love, say no more, but remember I am always here. Whatever the time, whatever the issue! Now your flight is booked and I have sent you the details."

"I know . . ." Derek slumped back again and sighed deeply, "and I appreciate that you are always there for me, regardless. I love you for it. Thank you for sorting this for me."

"Anytime Hot Stuff, take care."

With the sound of a blown kiss she was gone. He looked at his silenced phone, the email she had sent showing on the screen. Opening it up he scanned the info then opened a new email for Hotch, requesting the necessary leave of absence, just stating that his Mom was unwell. He knew Hotch would read between the lines and realise it was more serious, but even typing the word cancer was too much right now. Pressing send he got up and headed to his bedroom, grabbing his dumped go-bag from the hall. It needed to be switched for fresh stuff before he left for the airport.

Walking though to his bedroom Derek opened the bag wide and dropped the contents onto his bed. Normally the mess would annoy him but today he was oblivious to it. Grabbing the wash kit he rummaged briefly to check he had all he needed before placing it back in. Then it was a systematic retrieval of clothes from the drawers on the other side of the room. Once these were stuffed into the bag he was done. He debated what to do while he had to wait. He could try to sleep or eat but in the end settled for heading straight to the airport, just because he couldn't face staying at home doing nothing.

. . .

Airports, Derek concluded, had their own time zone. It was the small hours of the morning yet there were still more people huddled in the bar then he had expected. Sat on a high stool facing out of the window, bourbon in hand Derek watched people pass. The place was as busy now as it would be at mid-day.

Mindlessly he swilled the contents of the glass around; buying a drink had seemed like a good idea half an hour ago. He had somehow hoped it would bring him some solace, but the normally strong liquor had been tasteless. Now it was purely a reason to be allowed to stay in the seat while he waited for his flight.

His thoughts wandered back to the conversation with Sarah, who had barely been able to contain the sobs, though he could tell she was trying. Her normally stoic demeanour cracking with each word, pauses increased as she tried to remain in control, trying to explain to Derek what the consultant had told her and their Mom. He was so glad that Sarah had been there with their Mom, who he knew had insistent she could go alone. Derek tried to recall all she had said, but all he could focus on, all he could remember was the bottom line . . . the unbelievable truth . . . the death sentence!

" _Derek, even with treatment they are only giving her eight to twelve months!"_


	2. We Are Family

**Holding on to Forever**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas**

First of all, thank you for your kind reviews, I really appreciate it. I am sorry I have not replied to them in person, I will try but not promise.

This is as far as I have managed to get written so far. I will try and get the next chapter done for next week but I am not 100% as it is hard going writing it and getting back into writing after so long.

Aspects of this story are based on real life experience but I am based in the UK so appreciate our systems are different – if I have done anything wrong regarding treatment etc please let me know.

. . .

Normally Derek could sleep on a flight no matter how noisy and unsettled. He would just plug his headphones in and tune out to it all. But now, in the early hours of Thursday morning, nothing was working; there was nothing he wanted to listen to, nothing matched his mood. The flight was lite, spaces all over the cabin, yet still Derek felt penned in. Everyone else nearby annoyed him by just being there, not that anyone had picked to sit too near, given the choice of spare seats. He knew he was giving off a vibe, and didn't care if it meant he was left alone to drown in his misery of thoughts.

The more he tried to process all he had been told the worse head hurt. It took nine months to carry a life into this world but his mum could be gone in less time. All she had teased him about regarding marriage and grandbabies she would never see, as he had let her down. If what the doctors said was true in a few months they would have their last Thanksgiving and Christmas as a family, by next summer he would be without either parent. Gritting his teeth Derek slowed his breath, determined not to cry, not now, not here.

"Are you ok, Sir?" a concerned voice called as he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Looking up Derek saw the dark eyes of the cabin assistant. He nodded briefly and looked away. Sensing that she hadn't moved away despite his subtle hint he looked back up.

"I'm fine," he grumbled, aware he would normally flirt and chat but not wanting to even acknowledge the existence of others right now.

"Can I get you a drink? Some water . . . or tea maybe?"

Derek rolled his eyes and sighed, hoping she would get the hint and go.

"I'm fine," he ground out again, replacing his headphones though only to place a barrier between him and the persistent women looking at him with deep concern. He held his breath, refusing eye contact until he was certain she had moved on.

He spent the rest of the flight looking out the window at the dawning day, ignoring the world around him.

. . .

Derek spotted his sister Sarah waiting by her car, he notice it was new but she hadn't mentioned it. Derek had texted her before leaving asking to be collected. She looked dreadful. It was obvious she had been crying, something he wasn't use to seeing his eldest sister do. She had always been the strong silent type, one he had tried to emulate as he had been growing up. He remembered vividly how he had admired her when their Pop died. She was there for him and Des as well as their Mom. Nearly a teen then but suddenly she seemed to morph into an adult. If he thought about it he knew she must have cried, she must have grieved, but he never remembered seeing it.

As Derek reached her, she stepped forward and hugged him, instinctively he dropped his bag and pulled her into his arms, squeezing tight. They had always been close as a family, physically and mentally. They were such a support even before Pop, now that bond would be tested again.

"Sarah, I'm sorry," his whispered.

"What for?" she questioned as she pulled away from him, her eyes finding his.

He could feel her eyes searching for an answer to her question.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here, today, for you and Mom. I should have . . ."

Sarah shook her head, her long dark hair swaying across her shoulders. "And what difference would it have made if you were? You can't fix this . . . none of us can. . . " Her voice tailed off, as she looked away, breathing deeply to calm herself.

"Hey," Derek reassured, pulling her close once more, "I know I can't fix but I still should have been here, with you. How's Des doing? I was kind of expecting her to come with you."

"She's with Mom," Sarah sighed, stepping away and getting into the car, "Not that I'm sure it's a good idea," she called.

Derek picked up his bag and slung it into the trunk before getting in beside Sarah.

"How's Mom?"

Sarah raised an eyebrow, the Morgan family trait, and sighed. "She's in denial. I don't think she heard a word after 'cancer'. She says she's ready to fight, to do whatever it takes . . . but . . ." Sarah looked away as she pulled out into traffic and started to make her way back to their Mom's house.

"But?" Derek prompted.

"But . . . I want to have the faith she has, I want to believe we can fight , but they were clear. There is no cure. The best hope is that she responds to treatment to prolong her life."

Derek could sense Sarah was struggling to hold it together, maybe he should have offered to drive. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, trying to give her some of the strength he didn't know he had but knew he owed her from way back.

"Sarah, we'll do it her way, whatever it takes, we'll find a way. We always have and we always will do. If she believes she can fight, she will, will power is a strong force and Mom has always had a whole heap of it. She needed it with us three."

Sarah snorted, "Coz will power is going to baffle science and win the day!"

"That's not what I said and you know it, but we have to do it her way. We owe her that. All she gave up and done for us, we do it all for her."

Sarah nodded her head, but Derek could tell it was to pacify him. He got it, he felt her frustration, her sadness, her shock. He felt it because it was tearing him apart too. However he knew it was no good trying to decide things for Mom. She was a strong independent women and he had learnt the hard way and long time ago that you didn't argue with her. What she says goes.


	3. We Fight

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

Once again thank you for the support, I do appreciate it and it is encouraging when you haven't written anything for a while to get support.

As always I'm happy to have feedback on on improvements I can make, especially any technical differences between UK and USA.

Timings for updates with not be consistent. I am writing this as I can and it is difficult to write, and therapeutic, due to personal experience. Please be patient with me.

. . .

Sarah swung the door open and Derek followed, "Hey Mom, we're home," she called.

"In the kitchen" their Mom chorused back.

Derek dropped his bag by the door, something smelt good, it was obvious his Mom was cooking. He paused, everything felt so right, yet his mind was screaming it's all wrong. This was home, no matter how long ago he left, it was still home. They had been through it all here, together, as a family. The good and the bad. Heading along the hallway towards the kitchen, Derek's attention was caught by the photos his Mom had mounted. Some made him smile, others cringe, seriously that hair!

"Hey Mama," he greeted her as she pulled him into a hug, he held onto her tight, planting a kiss on her head, "Something smells good!"

"Well, figure I have to feed you up when I get the chance," Fran replied as she turned away, "Good honest Irish Stew, just like my Mama use to make. It was your Pop's favourite."

"And mine," Derek added.

"You two always had a lot in common," she giggled, "You may be a Mama's Boy but you're definitely your father's son."

"You wouldn't have me any other way," Derek beamed, stepping forward to envelope her into another hug. Holding her tight, breathing deeply trying to memorise the feel, the smell, the moment. "I love you Mom."

"And I love you."

. . .

Derek bought the last of the peach cobbler through and placed it in the fridge. Hos sisters were busy clearing the kitchen. Leaning against the bench Derek watched them both. Everything was so normal, yet so strained. They all avoiding the conversation that none of them wanted to have.

As if she could read his mind Sarah turned to him and said, "It's no good she doesn't want to talk about it right now."

Derek rolled his eyes, "Doesn't make it go away Sarah. We need to know what we're doing, what to expect, what she wants."

Des placed the towel down on the side and walked towards him "She's adamant she can fight it." As she reached him she flopped onto Derek's chest and let his arms wrap around her, "but what if she can't?'' she sobbed.

Derek held Des tight, letting her cry, wishing he could do the same right now. He noticed Sarah turn away. He could see her reflection in the window, he watched her struggled, but knew she wouldn't accept him right now.

. . .

Derek stumbled through, blurry eyed, the next morning, still in his grey track pants. He'd slept remarkably deep in his old single bed. Exhaustion had knocked him out cold. Automatically he started to prep coffee, as soon as he got to the kitchen. He hadn't even noticed his Mom at the table. Rubbing his hands over his head and stretching he sighed, heavy and deep.

"When you first joined the PD I'd often find you skulking round the coffee pot when you had a rough shift. This time I don't need to ask what the problem is though," Fran sighed, "I hate that I'm causing all this pain."

Derek spun round to face her, "Mom," he whispered.

Fran's head dipped for a moment, only to bob back up with a fixed smile. "I plan to fight this every step of the way. I'm not ready to roll over and play dead yet."

Derek slid into the chair opposite her, slumping down hard. He reached across the table and took her hand. "Mom, I'm worried."

"I can tell," Fran said as she squeezed his hand, "Don't be. We'll work it out."

Derek snorted, "I like you optamisum."

"I have to be optimistic, it's all I have left."

They sat in silence for a moment. Holding hands and watching, waiting for the other to say something.

Derek's brow furrowed as his mind raced with the things he wanted to say. He pulled his hands away briefly as he ran them over his head and sighed, before cupping his mother's hands in his. "I love you Mama."

"I know you do, and that there is one of three good reasons I have to keep going as long as I can." Fran flipped her hands out, placing them on top of Derek's, "I love all three of you very much. I cannot make promises to you, other then I intend to do everything I can to . . ." Her head dropped as her voice faded.

"I don't get it," Derek blurted out, "You look fine. You said there was nothing to worry about. It was just routine checks after you chest infection last year."

Fran squeezed a little tighter, "When I got ill last year, the chest infection, they found a shadow on my lung. They thought it was from the infection, so had been keeping an eye on it, treating it to get it to disperse. They weren't worried, so I wasn't, so I didn't worry you and your sisters with it. It hadn't got bigger, but it hadn't got smaller either over the months, so this year they decided to do a biopsy, just a precautionary check. . ."

"You should have told us. We're a family . . . we do things together," Derek tried to curb the anger that was edging into his voice. "Why did the doctors leave it so long? How did we not know this was happening? That this was cancer?"

"Baby, I'm lucky. Many people don't know they have lung cancer until it is too late. It can be completely symptomless. If I hadn't of had that chest infection they would not have been monitoring the shadow and it would be too late for treatment."

"Treatment that won't cure!" Derek stood and stormed over to the counter, slamming a fist down, "Damn, why didn't they biopsy sooner? If you had told us we could have paid for tests?"

Fran moved over to stand behind her son, the tension clear in his taut shoulders. "The treatment won't cure, I'm a lifer, but if it is successful it will keep me going. A bit of discomfort is a small price to pay. They didn't biopsy sooner because they weren't worried. The shadow wasn't growing, small cell lung cancer is usually quick to spread. It wasn't."

Derek turned round and hugged his mom. "So what do we do now?"

"We fight."


	4. Maybe We Can Get Through Together

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

So glad to hear how interested you are in the story - yes Morgan is in for a rough ride!

As always I'm happy to have feedback on on improvements I can make, especially any technical differences between UK and USA.

I am so sorry for how long this has taken but I have had a manic fortnight. I will try to get another chapter written and edited this week but can't promise. Timings for updates with not be consistent. I am writing this as I can and it is difficult to write, and therapeutic, due to personal experience. Please be patient with me.

. . .

Derek placed the mugs down in front of his sister's before returning to collect his own. He didn't want another one but he needed something to keep him going and he still hadn't the stomach to eat. Taking a seat he looked at Des first. She was wracked, her eyes red and bloodshot, blatantly showing the signs of all the crying she had done. As she slumped over the mug of steaming coffee he could see the next tear wasn't far. Her hands shook as she tried to hug the mug, causing a trickle of coffee to trace the side. Derek's gaze moved to his big sister, Sarah. Her jaw tense as she fought desperately to hold it all together. He'd seen this strength in her before, many years ago when their father had died. He knew she would put everyone else first, and save her own feelings for when she was alone. Sat between them he knew he was swinging between the two poles. On the outside he was trying to maintain a stoic calm yet the tears leaked out. He wanted to be strong but knew he was crumbling.

The three sat in silence. They had the house to themselves as Fran had left for her volunteering stint at the Community Centre. They had asked her to stay home, but she had been adamant that life carries on as usual. She didn't want anyone to know she was ill, stating that she couldn't put up with the pity.

Taking a tentative sip of his coffee, Derek took a sideways look at each sister. Sighing he decided to be the one to break the silence. "So . . . how long are we ignoring this?"

Both looked at him.

"Mom has lung cancer." He realised he had just said it out loud for the first time and it hit him hard. Hearing his own voice say the words made it real, like a slap to his face. He rapidly dragged his hands down his face to swipe away the tears. "Sarah you were with her, what do we do? What do we need to know?"

"D, I've told you everything already. Telling you again won't change it!'" Sarah replied, the desperation creeping into her voice.

"Ok," Derek's hands shot up in defence, "It's not sinking in. I don't know what I need to do. How can I help? I hate feeling so helpless."

"There is nothing you can do. You go back to the BAU and visit when you can. We can be here for the appointments and such."

Whoa, another slap to the face. Derek slumped back in his chair and glared at his sister, making it clear he was not happy with what she had just said.

"DON'T SHUT ME OUT!" he growled.

Sarah rolled her eyes. Des began to cry again, sobbing as she bit onto her hand. "Please don't argue," she begged.

"Then don't shut me out," Derek leant forward again, lacing his fingers together. "I want to help."

Sarah pushed her cup away and leant in. "I am not shutting you out. I am trying to be practical. You have a thriving career and live miles away. You can't travel back and forth. We're here. Though, while we are all here, I will be honest with you. I am leaving work."

Des looked up in disbelief, "Sorry, what? Since when?" 

"I have been thinking about it for a while, before this," she waved her hand round vaguely. "Derek, you have got where you want to be, what you have always worked for. Des you have just got a promotion, it's perfect for you. I'm at a dead end. I don't want anymore responsibility, I don't want to work longer hours, but I do what time with my family. I am willing to help Mom. I can get her to the appointments and do what needs doing round the house. I'm not trying to push you out. I just want to do what I can."

"We all do," Derek said as he took both sisters' hands simultaneously. "We want to be there for her. Do this together."

"I get that Derek," Sarah said, rubbing her face in the same way her brother did. "I'm not trying to deny either of you, I am just saying I'm willing to be here for the day to day. Then maybe we could look at doing some of the bigger things together."

"Like what?" Des asks.

"You know Mom is going to have to cancel that vacation you had planned with her, coz of treatment. Maybe we could plan something together, that we could all do."

"I could definitely look into that and plan something out," Des nodded, wiping away the tears, seeming pleased to have something to focus on.

Derek seemed to be nodding, "It's been a while since we've all been away together." Then he giggled, "Remember the first time Mom took us to the beach after Pop died."

Sarah rolled her eyes, "No beach vacations! Never . . . ever . . . ever . . . again with you two."

"Come on big sis, it wasn't that bad."

"DON'T!" Sarah warned.

"I don't remember it, what happened?"

By now Derek was laughing hard, tears streaking his face at the memory. "You tell her Sarah," he snorted.

"No way, if she can't remember then it's one less person I need to threaten into silence. And if you don't want to lose parts of your anatomy that I'm sure you use too frequently you'll keep quiet."

"Please D, tell me! Please!" Des begged, shimmying round beside him, fluttering her eyelashes, "I need some mud I can throw at her, she knows far too much about me!"

"You shouldn't have been such a wild teenager! Only gave me ammunition," Sarah mocked.

Derek nearly choked as he struggled to breath through the laughter as the familiar bickering and teasing of their childhood rose. Des pouting comically as Sarah glared him into submission. For the first time since his sister had called he actually felt like they could get through this together.


	5. Home From Home

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

Thank you for your ongoing support, it is appreciated.

As always I'm happy to have feedback on on improvements I can make, especially any technical differences between UK and USA.

Timings for updates with not be consistent. I am writing this as I can and it is difficult to write, and therapeutic, due to personal experience. Please be patient with me.

. . .

Derek settled back into the business class seat, he'd blagged an upgrade as he headed back to Quantico thanks to a grin and some harmless banter. He was surprised how good he was feeling, but positivity was the key and his Mom repeatedly reminded them. She was right. They had to remain positive. They could do it, they had come through so much together.

Popping his headphones on he settled back, hoping for some sleep, as he had plenty to catch up on. He reflected on the difference in this journey to his fraught flight home a few days ago. Inwardly he cringed as he thought about the vibe he had given off, the way he'd snapped at the attendants, the glares he'd given anyone that dared to get within a few feet. Now he was relaxed and able to think clearly.

His head rolled sleepily to the side as he looked out of the window, watching Chicago disappear into the distance. He had promised his Mom he would be back soon, when she was having her first treatment. He also promised he would call when he landed and that he would give Penelope a huge hug just from her. To be honest he would be giving Pen a huge hug regardless of his Mom's wishes. He sighed, now not wanting to face telling her why he had rung her frantic for a flight home. Accepting his mother's diagnosis mentally and voicing it out loud were two very different things. He knew his Mom wanted it kept quiet which had meant there were no difficult conversations to be had while home and he had bumped into people he knew. But the team were different. They knew something was wrong as he had disappeared overnight without warning. Hotch had an outline from the couple of emails he'd sent but had respected Derek's wishes not to tell the team anything other then he had gone home for personal reasons.

Watching the clouds as they passed through them Derek decided he would be honest with the team, all in one go. It would be better to tell them then having them trying to guess or talk to him individually. Hopefully if he was matter of fact about it they would accept his explanation and leave him alone. Except for Pen, of course, and probably Reid, maybe even Emily, oh hell who was he kidding he knew this next bit was not going to be easy. Just because he'd just left his real family didn't mean he wasn't about to be surrounded by his work family who would want to help and support just as much as his sisters.

Closing his eyes, Derek tried to forget about the difficult conversations to come and relax long enough to sleep.

. . .

Slumped on the couch, beer in hand Derek jumped at the knock on his door. Glancing at the time he knew it was Penelope, it shouldn't surprise him that she had headed straight over the minute he'd put the phone down. He pushed himself up to let her in. Opening the door he was proved right as the flurry of burnt orange fluffiness blurred past, dumping her bag and spinning to hug him.

Derek managed to kick the door shut as his arms wrapped around her in return. Everything about her felt so good, he felt safe once more. Suddenly the stresses and strains of the last few days built back up to bubbling point. As emotions overwhelmed him, Derek allowed the tears to roll. His shoulders shuddered as he felt Penelope's arms tighten around him, her soothing voice sounding so reassuring.

After what seemed like forever Derek pulled back enough to swipe away the remaining tears and look down into Penelope's concerned eyes.

"Baby Boy," she stroked her hand down his chest, "I want to make it all better for you, to take it all away, I do, I honestly do. What can I do?"

Leading them both back to the couch, they sat, still holding each other. "Right now Baby there is nothing any of us can do. She's starting treatment in a few weeks. The consultant wants to get started as soon as possible. Apparently with lung cancer time is of the essence, I'm sure it is with all cancers. We know its not operable so treatment is our best option. We can only hope she responds."

Penelope gasped at his bluntness, the prospect of what could lay ahead.

"I . . . I don't know what to say, it's so . . . sad. Your Mom . . . she's amazing. She doesn't deserve this."

"Nobody does Baby, nobody does," Derek sobered up, regaining control once again.

"I know, but you know what I mean," Pen shrugged, "It's your Mom."

Derek pulled her a little closer, finding comfort in just having her there, "Mom's strong, you wouldn't know there was anything wrong with, that's half the problem with lung cancer its often symptomless. If she hadn't of been ill the other month it may never of been found until it was too late. We've got a chance. Mom's a fighter, she doesn't give up on anything easily. She can't do, she bought me up after all and that was no easy task." He though back with regret at some of the things he'd put his mom through. No matter how he'd behaved she never gave up, he knew she was there, though he had struggled to accept her help at the time.

"Sweetie, you know I'm here for you know matter what, don't you?" Penelope said, her eyes showing the sincerity of her words.

"I know."

"It doesn't matter what or when," Pen sat bolt upright, her hands on his as she looked deep into his eyes, "You can call, visit, text, whatever and I'll be right here." Pen stabbed the couch as if to make her point all the clearer.

Derek smiled, holding her shoulders gently, "Penelope, I know and I appreciate it, I honestly do. Thank you." Pulling her in close they sat together, doing and saying nothing, just being there for each other.

. . .


	6. The Truth

**Holding on to Forever**

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the ideas

Thank you for your ongoing support, it is appreciated.

As always I'm happy to have feedback on on improvements I can make, especially any technical/medical differences between UK and USA.

I am writing this as I can and it is difficult to write, and therapeutic, due to personal experience. Please be patient with me and I will update when I can.

. . .

Derek squared his shoulders as he stepped out of the lift and strided towards the glass doors of the BAU. He was early, but was hoping to sneak straight into his office and hide before everyone arrived. He didn't want to have the same conversation time and time again. As he pushed through the doors he noticed the blinds up in Hotch's office, indicating that he was already here too. Derek headed towards his boss' office to apologise for his absence and explain. Knocking briefly on the open door, Derek stepped inside as Hotch looked up from the files in front of him.

"Derek, please," Hotch indicated a seat opposite him. "How are you? How's your Mom?"

Derek watched his superiors brows furrow and he heard the concern in his voice. He wasn't use to pity and definitely didn't know how to accept it. He sat down and met Hotch's gaze. "I'm fine thank you, Mom appears well and is due to start treatment shortly," he kept everything matter of fact.

"Derek, I understand how difficult it is for you and your family. You have the team's full support and I will help you to gain any time you need to support your Mom through this."

Derek swallowed, hard, his fingernails digging into his palm, he now understood why his Mom hadn't wanted everyone to know, sympathy was a bitter pill to take. "Thank you," he finally muttered.

"Derek, what do you want to tell the team? I can talk to them for you if you wish," Hotch's eyes narrowed as he broke the unwritten rule and continued to scrutinise the reactions.

Highly aware he was being analysed, Derek sighed, "Pen already knows, she only found out last night, I'll let the others know at the beginning of the briefing."

"Of course," Hotch nodded, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," Derek stood, turning to leave, "thank you."

. . .

Back in the safety of his own office, Derek dropped his bag and settled himself behind his desk. He pulled, what seemed a relatively small pile of files, over ready to begin. He guessed that Reid had taken some to complete for him, as there should have been more.

Opening the first one he immersed himself in the details of the case he was about to consult on. The gory details of the crime scenes seemed comforting in their ability to take him away from here and now. As he spread out the file contents to compare and contrast his brain lost track of all that had filled it over the last few days. He became immersed in the photos and reports. All he could focus on was the profile he was building ready to send to the force that had asked for support.

. . .

Reid kept glancing up at Derek office as Emily and JJ spoke, he was just as concerned for their colleague, and friend, as they were but he didn't feel the need to try and second guess what was going on. Hotch had clearly told them that Derek had flown home to his family for personal reason, his tone had made it obvious, even to Reid, that there was nothing to discuss, so why the two of them felt the need he did not understand.

"Hey Reid! What do you think?"

He turned when he realised Emily was talking to him.

"I prefer not to make wild predictions, Derek will tell us if he wants us to know."

Both women's eyebrows raised at the curt tone. "Sorry . . . we were only . . ."

"I know," Reid interrupted before returning to the file he had open.

"The Boy Genius is right," Penelope added, as she closed the distance between herself and her friends, making it clear she had overheard at least some of the conversation. "Derek needs us to understand not hound him with questions and queries."

"Which means you know what the problem is," Emily stated.

Penelope rooted herself to the spot, her unusually dark navy shoes, matching her surprisingly sombre outfit, that was only lightened by flashes of canary yellow, held her fast. "What I do or don't know is irrelevant, as Derek's friend I feel it is inappropriate to discuss him like this."

"But it's ok to discuss what Anderson was doing the other weekend with Davis from Anti-terrorism?" JJ added.

"That is completely different," Penelope sniffed, "Now if you don't mind it is time to gather for our daily meet, greet and gore fest. As it is my duty to round you all up I will head up and get Derek and meet you there." With which she was gone.

. . .

The soft knock on the door startled Derek, he hadn't realised how deeply drawn into the case he had become. Glancing at his watch before he looked up he was surprised that it was already time for the team briefing.

"Its time," Penelope added from the door, as if he hadn't already noticed.

"Thanks," he nodded and grabbed his stuff, "Dare I ask where we are off to?"

"What and have me spoil the surprise?" she giggled. As Derek reached the doorway she put out her hand on his his arm, suddenly looking serious, "You ok?"

"Yeah, kinda," he shrugged.

Penelope tightened her grip, "Everyone is worried about you Hot Stuff, what are you going to tell them?"

"The truth."

. . .

Sat around the table the team fell silent as Derek and Penelope entered the room, both took their seat. Derek decided not to look up at the others, the thought of the pity on their faces was enough. He wished he had taken Hotch's offer and let the leader explain, too late now.

Hotch cleared his throat.

Derek glanced up, "Before you start the briefing, I'd like to apologise for not being here. Mom . . .," he searched round to to meet Penelope's eyes, wishing he was sat nearer to her. "Mom has been diagnosed with cancer."

The rush of murmured concerns from the team flooded over Derek as he focused hard on a fixed spot on the table. He'd done it, he'd said it, they knew. Now they could get on with the job. Something for them to focus on other then him and his family. Something for him to focus on, other than his Mom.


	7. On the Road again

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

Thank you for your ongoing support and reviews, I am trying to remember to reply to them but do need to catch up.

As always I'm happy to have feedback on on improvements I can make, especially any technical/medical differences between UK and USA.

I am writing this as I can and it is difficult to write, and therapeutic, due to personal experience. Please be patient with me and I will update when I can. This has been delayed even more by my Dad being ill.

. . .

The team hadn't expected to be back and up in the air so soon, in fact at the briefing yesterday there had been nothing to signify the need for their urgent help. However the rapid train of events in Dublin, Ohio made it clear that every second counted, and the team had been called in. The spree killer had already hit twice in 24 hours and concerns was building as everyone tried to predict his next move.

The team had headed straight to the jet. Hotch had held the briefing shortly after take off. Now the team had their heads down, processing the information they had been given.

Derek was grateful for the distraction, even if he had preferred it not to have involved the deaths of innocent people. The week in the office had dragged, though he had kept his head down to avoid others. It meant for once he had caught up and even got all his consultations finished early for once.

The crime scene photos that had already been forwarded to them were harrowing, but nothing he unfortunately hadn't seen before. The killer appeared to be swift and brutal. His targets were indiscriminate. There seemed no reason for the choosing, making it near impossible to guess where he would strike next. The tenuous link between the first two kills were just that they were very public and busy, meaning maximum impact in minimum time.

The killer, a lone gunman, picked a sports bar on a Friday night, 6pm, full of workers celebrating the end of another working week before they headed home or out for more fun. Ten dead, and many more injured before he left. Meer minutes he was in, not long enough for security to process what was happening. CCTV showed him literally open the door and let blast with a semi-automatic. A hood and snapback cap obscured his face. Twenty hours later and he repeated his actions in a supermarket on the edge of town, taking out two security guards with his first blast then another 12 customers dead and multiple injured before he turned and walked away.

Derek flicked between the two videos. The gunman was confident, he knew what he was doing yet his actions were erratic and appeared unplanned. The killer was obviously use to guns and knew how to handle it to cause maximum impact.

"Are we thinking ex-miliatery? PTSD? Dishonourable discharge?" Derek voiced.

Rossi raised his head, "He sure knows how to handle a gun, it's possible. Something triggered his fight or flight?"

Tapping the screen Hotch spoke as soon as Garcia imaged appeared, leaving no opportunity for her normal cheery retorts. "Garcia can you search for any ex-military who are receiving treatment or counselling for PTSD in the area. Centres are not going to want to share their information so you may need to look for yourself!"

"Understood, Sir."

"Garcia, please ask first. If we are thinking it then the media should have given them enough insight to have them wondering if it's one of their clients too. They may be willing to share info to help us help whoever this is."

"Aye, Aye Captain, I will be my most pleasant and charming self, while I dig deeply through their unmentionables," Garcia replied with a wink.

Derek couldn't help but smile, she had that effect on him. He'd meant it all those years back when he'd called her his solace, she honestly was. He knew she had meant it the other night when she'd say she would be there whatever, whenever and he appreciated that.

"The U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs estimates that PTSD affects almost 31% of Vietnam veterans. As many as 10% of Gulf War or Desert Storm veterans and 11% of veterans of the war in Afghanistan," Reid interjected, "Looking at the CCTV images I think we can rule out Vietnam veterans due to age."

"Careful Kid," Rossi smiled as he spoke, "Don't be too quick to rule out anyone yet. I own a hoody and a cap."

"Really?" Reid's face screwed up as it was obvious he was trying to picture it.

"It hangin on your wall with Cubs signatures over it, don't count," Derek teased.

Rossi's eyes narrowed, "So I own two then!"

JJ looked up from her screen, "I think it not just the clothes that suggest we're looking at a younger man, the way he walks, his agility and speed once he leaves the building. Maybe this guy hasn't been back home long?"

"If he is in the early stages of therapy then the triggers will be fresh," added Emily.

"Even more so if he is so recently home that he hasn't accepted the need for help yet," Hotch joined the conversation, "JJ can you work on a press statement with me, we need to appeal to families as they will know if their loved one is acting different. They may have suggested therapy, and had their ideas rejected. They may already who this is and will hopefully come forward with a name so we can help. We need to stop him before he hits again."

The team nodded their agreement and returned to the respective focus and task so they could hit the ground running. Time was of the essence if they were to avoid another hit like the two that had already killer twenty-four and injured many more.

Derek sighed, he glanced out the window. Glad to be working and busy instead of being sat at home brooding over the weekend, it helped, yet his Mom never truly left his thoughts. She was there constantly, as he still tried to think of what he could do, how he could make it all better. Of course he knew he was thinking the impossible but still he had to try. He had learnt to live with one parent but he wasn't ready to lose the other yet.


	8. Choices

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

I cannot apologise enough but it's been a rough start the year for my Dad and I was just getting to the point where I could catch up with myself when we hit the first anniversary of losing my Mum. I'm not making any promises but I'm grateful for your patience.

As always I'm happy to have feedback on improvements I can make, especially any technical/medical differences between UK and USA.

This chapter skips forward a few weeks from the last one, its intentional but thought I'd note it incase anyone thought I'd missed a chapter or something.

. . .

Derek made himself comfortable as soon as he sat down. The flight home was not anywhere near as comfy as the BAU jet, even with business class flights. There was no way he could fly standard unless there was no choice now-a-days. It was the one thing he splashed out on. Through he wondered if he might have to reconsider now he was going to be flying home more frequently. Inwardly he groaned at the thought of the squashed up seats, nope he would find a way to remain in business class.

As he settled down, headphones ready, book out, Derek began to realise just how tired he was. The cases had been back to back the last couple of weeks. They had barely touched down before they were back in the air. In fact he had bought his go bag with him, ready to do some washing at his Mom's, as he had such a limited supply of clean clothes left. He smiled as he remembered how Garcia had agreed to head to his and get some stuff done while he was away. Giggling as she had let slip a selection of innuendo regarding finally getting her hands on his underwear. That woman sure made his day brighter.

He could do with her here now with him, not knowing how his Mom would be after the first round of chemo she had on Wednesday. Hotch had tired to send him home early off the last case as he had originally planned to fly out on the day but Derek couldn't leave the team at the point where they had seemed no further forward than the day they had arrived. Fortunately they had got a break later that day, unfortunately it was too late for them to save the young couple abducted by the unsub. They had to suffice with knowing that had stopped anyone else from getting hurt. The result had not sat easy with any of them, and the flight back to Quantico had been a solemn one.

Sarah had messaged him, saying that Mom seemed OK. Later Des had messaged to ask when he would be there as Sarah and Mom were arguing, again. Apparently it had started after her pre-chemo check the week before. Neither would tell Des what was going on, nor would they tell him when he'd rung. Rubbing his forehead in the hope to ward of the headache that threatened to take hold, Derek hoped whatever it was had passed over. Though he'd got the impression from his little sister that it wasn't the case.

Either way he decided that getting some sleep in the flight might be the best bet, so he tucked his book away once more, picked a playlist and closed his eyes.

. . .

Walking through arrivals he was pleased to see Des waiting for him, though he had expected Sarah who was the usual one to pick him up. As she turned towards him, Derek instantly registered the look on her face. It was moments like this he realised how unalike his chalk and cheese sisters were. Des wore her heart on her sleeve, while Sarah had a stoic look that once in place rarely slipped. Des tried to please everyone and keep the peace, where Sarah would tell it how it is regardless of who she offended. They may look similar but they tackled life on two seperate paths.

"What's up?" he said as he pulled his little sister into a hug.

"I'm glad your home," she murmured into his chest, "They won't tell me but they're hardly speaking. It's horrible."

Derek knew that she was referring to Sarah and their Mom. Obviously whatever was causing the arguments was still going.

"Other then that, how's Mom?" he asked.

Des pulled away and shrugged as she looked up at her big brother. "Ok I guess, she's still carrying on as if nothing happened. "She said the effects wouldn't be obvious immediately with the form she is having, but honestly you wouldn't know there was anything wrong with her. Other then she gets breathless if she takes the stairs up, but then so do I!"

"Well in that case you best get your butt to the gym Missy," Derek teased, "Mom can be forgiven but at your age you should be leaping up them two at a time."

Punching his arm, Des smiled "Alright tough guy, some of us have real jobs not jet set lifestyles with a basement gym open 24/7. The perks of the FBI."

Derek laughed, she made it sound so glamorous, he didn't have the heart to tell her what he'd been through in the last twenty four hours. That a good gym session would be amazing right now if he had the energy to lift more than his two feet off the ground. "It's a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it," he smirked, hiding the truth.

"It's alright D, I can't and don't want to image, what your job is like. Happy with my nine-to-five and weekends I can call my own. Besides did I tell you I've scored a promotion?"

As they walked to the car, they chatted casually, their minds off their warring sister and mother for a moment.

. . .

Derek heard the shouting before he opened the door, he would have stood and listened to try and gauge an idea of what it was about if Des hadn't of shot passed to find out what was going on.

"So this is what 'nothing' looks like is it? When are you going to let me know what the problem is? How about you tell Derek if you won't tell me!" she hollowered as she waded in between the two.

Derek stood in the room doorway and watched as both Sarah and his mother glared at each other before looking away.

"She's got a point," Derek finally voiced, once the atmosphere had become so stale it was hard to breath. "Either of you feel like filling us in just go for it."

"Baby," his Mom smiled as she stepped passed his sisters to hug him, "It's lovely to see you, but you can't be making this trip every few weeks."

"Mom! I'm not three and easily distracted by you changing the subject. I could hear you two outside, what on Earth is going on?" looking down at his mother he could see how tired she looked, and she seemed to have lost some weight, but that could have been his imagination, he didn't know for sure.

Fran closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Your sister disagrees with the treatment I've chosen."

An audible huff came from Sarah's direction, but Derek shot her a glare that silenced any further comments.

"Sorry Mom, what choice in your treatment? I thought it was all decided."

"Go and sit down and I'll make a pot of coffee and we can try to discuss this like adults," everyone noticed the look Fran gave Sarah.

The three children took a seat as Fran disappeared off to the kitchen.


	9. It's Her Battle

Holding on to Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas

As always I'm happy to have feedback on improvements I can make, especially any technical/medical differences between UK and USA.

As always I apologise for the delay but I'm all over the place at the mo.

. . .

The silence was beyond uncomfortable. Derek racked his brain trying to grasp for something to say. He glanced from one woman to another. To his left round the table sat Des. She had stopped sobbing and now sat, mouth drooping open as she tried to comprehend what had just been said. Sarah, who was opposite their younger sister, was glaring at them all, arms folded in defensive defiance. Between his sisters sat his mum, looking directly at him pleading for support as her frail hands wrapped tightly around a mug of tea. He let his eyes drop down to his own coffee mug and sighed deeply. His mind was swirling, trying to process all the information he had just received.

"Well?" Sarah's voice cut through his thoughts, "Are either of you going to try and talk sense into her?"

"Mom," Des' voice was high pitched, borderline whining. "Why?"

Without looking up Derek saw his mum's hand move to cup Des'. "Darling, it's what I want. I've looked into all of the options and this is the route I want to take. Contrary to what your sister says it's not a whim, no-one has forced me into this. Its my battle and I'll do it my way."

An audible huff came from Sarah before she spoke, "Derek, please can you try and speak some sense into her! Sure she'll listen to her Baby Boy."

Derek looked up, "It's Mom's choice, we have to respect her decision," he said flatly.

"Seriously," Sarah bellowed as she stood up and stormed out of the room. Des started to wail again, his Mom moved to comfort her. All the time she looked over her daughter's shoulder at Derek, finally she mouthed 'Thank you'. Derek pushed up from the table and went after Sarah.

He quickly found her in the kitchen, pacing. Derek leant against the door frame. "Sarah."

She stopped and glared at him. "You really agree with her? That this is the best way of dealing with this?"

"What I do or don't think is not the point right now," he answered, his voice soft. Stepping forward Derek leant against the worktop next to where Sarah had stopped. Running his hands over his head, he sighed. "The way I see it, this is her life and her choice. She has been making her own decisions and doing things her own way for a long time now. She's had to. We have to trust her. She'd done a good job in the past."

"But D, this is very literally her life! The wrong choice could mean . . ." Sarah stopped, unable to say any more.

Derek pulled his sister close, holding her tight.

"She hasn't given up hope. She just isn't taking the path we assumed she would. You heard her, it's her battle. She's fighting this, her way. She has chosen to be part of treatment trails for whatever reason, but that is her choice. Do I agree?" Derek shrugged as he spoke, "Right now I honestly don't know what I think. But I know I want to support her, whatever is important to her, we do it. It might not be what we want but it's not our decision to make. She is going to battle this her way and hopefully that will allow her to be with us as long as possible. However Sarah we have got to face the one fact we do know - right now there is no cure! This is going to kill her eventually."

"Which is why I want her to have the best chance. To accept the tried and tested chemo treatment not something new that we don't know what will happen. They only gave her eight to ten months on the standard route, we don't know what this will do."

"Sarah," Derek tipped her head up to look into her eyes, "If I know Mom she has researched this and has made a choice based on fact. As she explained the placebo chemo is the same treatment she would have without the trial and if she is given the trail drugs it's not untested it is just that they are trying to build a bigger test base. Sarah, please, I know how hard this must be for you supporting Mom day in and day out, but please let's not spend what time we have left fighting."

Slowly nodding Sarah pulled back from her brother, "I don't want to fight with her, but I'm scared D."

"We all are," Derek wiped a random tear from her cheek, "I know what you're like, you don't have to try and shoulder all this yourself. We're all in it together - talk to us."

. . .

Pacing his old bedroom, Derek sighed, there was only one person who could help him. Grabbing his phone without even checking the time he called number one on his favourites list. Moments later the rings stopped and a familiar voice answered.

"Hey Baby Boy, how's my other Mother doing?"

Derek sighed, a huge lung full of air exiting him as if he'd been holding his breath since he'd arrived. "So far so good, but who knows?"

"D, whats up? Do you want me to head over? I'm sure I can sort a flight."

He could hear her rummaging around, and guessed she was already on her laptop looking at flight.

"HEY, pump your breaks. There is no need for you to run up here - I'll be back Monday. I just needed to hear you voice. I just needed to know you are there."

"D, I'm always here, Silly. You should know that. Now, please, let me help," Penelope pleaded.

Flopping down on his bed, Derek sighed again, "I wish you could. How are your miracle skills currently? Coz I think I need one, pretty damn quick."

"Hun, what is it?"

He could hear Pen's breath hitch. "Mom has gone into clinical trials instead of the standard treatment route. I arrived to her and Sarah in full blown battle over what she should and shouldn't be doing. All I want it time with Mom while we still have it not to referee between them."

"Oh Baby, that's awful," she soothed.

Derek got comfy on his bed, he knew what would happen, they'd chat until one of them fell asleep. He's eyes felt heavy already as he accepted that she was just what he needed. His solace.


	10. Solace

**Holding on to Forever**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the ideas**

As always I'm happy to have feedback on improvements I can make, especially any technical/medical differences between the UK and USA.

As always I apologise for the delay, it's no excuse but things have been manic since I last posted and I've really been struggling. Dad has been in and out of hospital, 2 heart attacks and other complications have left me running on empty. With that in mind and now the fact that my kids are off school due to Corona Virus I am leaving this story here. I hope one day I may return to add more chapters. In retrospect I shouldn't have started posting before I had finished writing. Take care everyone and stay safe.

Anyway enough of me - here goes.

. . .

For the first time in twenty four hours Derek felt good, okay maybe that was pushing it, but he definitely felt a lot better. The fresh Chicago air hit hard as he pounded along the streets in time to the music throbbing through his ears. As soon as he woke that morning he knew this was the escape he needed. His body was craving the physical release of a good run and his mind was desperate for the space to process the night before.

Waking up fully clothed this morning had been testament enough that he had fallen asleep during his chat with Penelope. However the playful text scolding him for falling asleep on her and "denying her precious beauty sleep" had confirmed that her dulcet tones had worked their magic on him the night before. He had been exhausted, both physically and mentally, after the heated debates and hours of just sitting in silence together that followed. It was amazing how tiring 'nothing' was.

However today was different, he was up and out of the house before anyone else had shown a sign of being awake. Though he had suspected he wasn't the only one lacking sleep at the moment. As much as he had wanted to spend as much time with his family as possible, he now sought a moment of solitude. So he had headed out, determined to sort himself out so he could support his family as best as he could. Rounding another corner he focused on all the changes happening in the neighbourhood. Nothing stayed the same, though there had been plenty of room for improvement in the area. It definitely seemed to be happening. As he watched workmen setting up for the morning outside an apartment block his music was interrupted by his phone ringing. Barely missing a beat of his pace he looked at his cell and smiled as he accepted the call.

"Do I have to apologise straight away or can I make it up to you when I get back?" his smile widened as he spoke.

"If I am going to have to wait until your return Hot Stuff it had seriously better be worth it," Penelope teased back.

"Oh it will be, though I'm surprised you're up and not catching up on your missed beauty sleep. How can I help?"

"Actually I was wondering how I can help? I was worried about you after last night and wanted to check if you were ok."

Derek could hear the concern in Penelope's voice. "I'm all better after speaking to my Solace last night."

"That's good to hear. How are things this morning?"

Derek took the final turn as he headed back towards his Mom's, "I decided to head out for a run to try and clear my head before we all get together again today. We are supposed to be heading out for lunch, there's a new place Mom's spotted she wanted to try, but . . ."

"But what?"

"I think we'll wait and see how everyone is doing this morning first."

"D, listen to me, if it's what your Mom wants, do it. Now is not the time to put it off until next time. Don't have this sort of thing hanging over your head. No regrets, please."

Slowing outside his Mom's, Derek lent against the wall, taking in what Pen had said, "Yeah Babe, you're right," he sighed.

"Of course I am, and if you just always remember that it will save a lot of debates."

Smiling once more Derek could imagine the grin on Pen's face, finishing the call up with an additional round of flirting he headed back inside. Whatever happened with his Mom over the coming days, weeks, months and hopefully years, he knew he would be alright as he had a safe place to retreat to, and someone special waiting for him there. He knew that he could rely on her one-hundred percent. Since finding out about his Mom's cancer he had put everything on hold, yet he hadn't really processed everything at the same time. Talking to Pen helped, beyond words. She truly was his Solace.


End file.
